



^* . w / . 



















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CEEOLA 



■OR- 



THE SLAVE & MINSTREL 



F(DIiH©AEd IE©MAli'(DIi= 



IN FIVE PARTS. 



BY MARSHALL S. PIKE. 



BOSTON : 



185 



^(^ C 1 ^ V --■ ■ ,- u t'^'JA 



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[Entered according to an Act of Congress in the year 1850, by MARSHALL S. 
PIKE, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.] 



x^'^ 



:i«r<aa»Tr'JE3. 



In presenting this Poem to the Public, the author expects not to 
please the criticising many, who aim to disparage the ambitious en- 
deavors of all others but themselves, but offers it, incomplete as it is 
to gratify his numerous sincere friends ; knov/ing that by pleasing 
these, he doubly pleases himself. 

Nearly three years had elapsed after its concluding stanza was writ- 
ten when chance threw it suddenly into the company of several 
literary associates, whose perusals and opinions proved favorable to the 
writer- who, with all their advice considers it neither meritorious or 
interesting, to warrant Its publication ; yet, with their judgement it 
goes lorth to the world, to meet and wish well its foes ; to greet, and 
gladden its friends. 

For a volume hastily penned, and by a non-pretender too, it must 
necessarily be a faulty and insipid effasion ; at least, to a close inspector 
or learned connoisseur ; and if from these, it gains ridicule and rebuff, 
the writer begs him or her to consider it only a romantic chapter of 
flighty ideas, thrown rhymingly together in a confused irregular 
measure ; and hopes if the theme should prove uninteresting to them 
that they may discover some single old-fashioned truth, newly drest 
over, which if appreciated once, will meet their kind and sympathetic 
approval again. If so, the writer is indeed most happy. 

M. S. PIKE. 

BosTO.v, Jak 1, 1S50. 



Congress Printing House, (J. E. Farwell & Co.) 33 Congress Street, Boston. 




* Bit — a seven-pence half-penny silver coin. 

I Servile Token — a certificate which allows a slave the privilege of a free ci.izf n 
for a specified time. 

X Pentiles — Street gutters, paved with tiles. 




PART I. 

DISAPPOINTMENT AND IMPRISONMENT. 
THE SLAVE-GIRL'S PLOT. 



I. 
The morning sun was turning, 

Its lustre through the sky, 
Till red-rim'd clouds seem'd burning, 
With gold and crimson dye. 
As balmy winds bleiv by. 
While night, light's beauty spurning, 
Had shrank from day's keen eye, 
When many mortals woke to taste hfe's dreg, 
Of bitter wo — and toil, and drudge, and beg. 

II. 
Virginia's fairest city. 

Was busy with a throng. 
And the slave's tale of pity. 
Was murmur' d with a wrong, 
As slow she trudg'd along ; 
While a minstrel sang his ditty, 
And play'd his harp in song. 
But gaining nought from those he chanc'd to meet ; 
He jostled on, and left the crowded street. 



CREOLA : OR THE 



III. 

The mid-day was advancing, 

And doors were open flung ; 
And lively feet 'gan dancing, 
At joyous lays he sung; 
While praise drop'd from each tongue , 
As on him eyes were glancing, 
From people old and young. 
Till with a full chord on his harp-strings loud, 
He ask'd for alms before the w^aiting crowd. 

IV. 
On tript the belle of fashion. 
In manlua made of blue ! 
And fast as feet could dash on, 
Off walk'd the miser too I 
While the half-ragged few, 
Who loiter'd still, fell in a passion, 
About what ? no one knew ! 
But vainly plead he of the group around ; 
So by his harp, sat he upon the ground. 

V. 
Still sat the minstrel resting, 

As others gather'd near ; 
Some pass'd him by with jesting, 
While others offer'd jeer. 
Instead of friendly cheer. 
The proud, the scene detesting, 
But laugh'd to see him here ; 
And the poor minstrel strove in vain to hide, 
His heart's deep anguish, and his manly pride ! 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 



VI. 

Again sang he — but colder 

Than icebergs look, look'd the^ I 
His harp was o'er his shoulder, 
And finished was his lay. 
Which done, he walk'd away, 
Leaving the rude beholder 
To follow, or to stay ! 
And down the street he turn'd with tiresome tread, 
To gain some pennies, to buy his daily bread. 

VII. 
He carae to a costly dwelling, 

Shaded by thick-set trees ; 
Whose inmates' looks were telling 
Of happiness and ease; 
These, he was sure to please, 
And soon his song was swelling. 
In cadence on the breeze. 
They heard delighted till the strains were o'er: 
When strange humanity, bade him leave the door. 

VIII. 
The sun was hotly glowing, 

And he walk'd mute and slow. 
With sunken dark-eyes showing, 
His heart was full of wo, 
But on he still must go. 
So, Avith the crowd then going. 
He sought the street below'. 
Where gazing on the river's tranquil breast; 
He, like its waters wish'd his thoughts could rest. 



CREOLA : OR THK 



IX. 

A slave-girl stands near crying, 
Whose head a Burthen tales ; 
While in the stream are lying, 
A thousand white-wing'd boats ; 
And freedom's fair flag floats, 
From all their masts — yet, sighing, 
She hears the minstrel's notes I 
That tell of days, when she a child was free ; 
Ere borne from home and friends across the sea. 

X. 
With his glad song of feeling, 

A wild thought thrill'd her frame, 
She heard his harp revealing, 
Her country's former fame, 
And nearer still she came ; 
Till at his leet, she, kneeling, 
In pity ask'd his name : 
And ken'd the sallowness his features bore. 
And half believ'd she'd seen that face before ! 

XI. 
He answer'd " Pedro." quickly, 

As flushes lit his face ! 
But countenance so sickly, • 

Of ancient Spanish race, 
Blush'd not with deep disgrace ! 
And tears fell hot and thickly. 
As thought he, he could trace, 
In the sad creature who before him knelt ; 
Creola, whom he'd lov'd, when home he dwelt I 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 



XII . 

He saw her sadly gazing, 

With earnestness on him, 
Until his cheek seem'd blazing, 
And eyesight weaken'd dim — 
She, watched his foreign trim ; 
Then, from the ground upraising, 
Look'd 'nealh his hat's broad brim. 
And spoke — " my Pedro ? no ! I hoped in vain I 
I'm sad — he's happy, in sunny southern Spain I 

XIII. 
She turn'd ; his song was ended, 

It told of Freedom's reign ! 
Her heart its hope suspended, 
A serf she must remain, 
Till ransoms broke her chain ! 
Yet gave with hand extended, 
A "bit,"^ from her small gain ! 
When with vile shouts, the mob besjan to scoff: 
And the guards, Pedro bound, and hurried off! 

XIV. 
His eye stared from its socket. 
At deeds so base and mean ! 
While from his belted pocket. 
Fell in the crowd between, 
A glittering carack skean. 
That fasten'd to a locket. 

Which with it drop'd unseen ! 
And through the street, the guards dragg'd Pedro on 
Until he fainted, and his breath was gone ! 



10 CREOLA : OR THE 



XV. 

Creola did not daft her 

Burthen ; though her heart was proud ; 
But sadly follow'd after, 
With head down lowly bow'd, 
As execrations loud, 
With ridicule and laughter, 
. Burst from the peccant crowd. 
For Pedro's fate, had led her close with them ; 
When she saw the weapon, with its precious gem. 

XVI . 
She snatch'd it from the paving. 

With hand of eager pride ; 
And weeping, well nigh raving, 
She bound it to her side, 
To die, if Pedro died ! 
For the locket's worn engraving, 
Was her, as Pedro's bride ! 
Which to him, she, had pledg'd for love and truth ; 
In Spain's fair clime, in days of happy youth. 

X VII . 
They dragg'd him on, though fainted, 

Through the long dusty street ; 
Till his clothes were filthy painted. 
And shoeless were his feet ! 
Oh ! Pity's tears, salt-sweet, 
Gush'd from those eyes, whose sainted 
Face, joy dared not meet I 
At length the guards pass'd through the Prison gate, 
And sad Creola, knew poor Pedro's fate. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. ll 



X VIII. 

The sun's bright face was sinking, 

O'er western hills away, 
Whose eyes of light kept winking, 
At night and parting day, 
Till died the last dim ray ; 
But Creola, still stood thinking, 
The part she soon must play. 
Then homeward turn'd, with full and fluttering breath ; 
To tell a lie — for truth, would prove her death I 

XIX. 
Her master's house she enter'd. 

But in the gloomy jail. 
Her fondest hopes were center'd. 
On Pedro, wan and pale I 
Oh ! could love's wild scheme fail ? 
No. Her master, her lament heard. 
As told she him, her tale ! 
" How a dying friend, in favor begg'd she might 
Permission get, to watch by her that night ! 



t 5> 



XX. 
He sign'd the servile token, f 

Which gave the glad command; 
Her tears, her thanks had spoken, 
As 'fore him, she did stand. 
To tempt it from his hand. 
Now, thraldom's link was broken, 
Till day should light the land ! 
Then from his sight, his off-cast-suit she took ; 
And 'guised in male attire, like one, did look ! 



12 CREOLA : OR THE 



XXI. 
Sweet freedom, she had found it ! 
And claspt Don Pedro's knife ; 
And 'bout her coat she bound it, 
With vengeful vows of strife, 
For death, or happy life ! 
And by the cross tied round it. 
She swore to be his wife ! 
Then closely wrap'd in gown of dingy grey ; 
She left the house and hurried on her way ! 

XXII. 
Life's sense of wrong had shaken, 

All danger from her mind ; 
She vow'd ere morn should Avaken, 
Poor Pedro to unbind, 
And prove she still was kind. 
Disguis'd, the street was taken, 
To where he was confin'd. 
Now treading faster on, her heart beat free ; 
For that night wedded her to death, or liberty ! 




PART II. 



f HIE HIlMSf laiEJL'^cS ISHEAM. 

DEATH OF THE GUARD BY THE SLAVE GIRL. 

PEDRO'S SURPISE. 

FLIGHT M^TH CREOLA. 



XXIII. 
The moon was half reposing, 

Upon a cloud of white ; 
As Pedro, partly dozing, 
Gaz'd out upon the light, 
That lit the gloom of night ; 
When through the outer closing, 
An object met his sight. 
And starting up, from out his dreamy spell ; 
A moving shadow 'cross his pallet fell I 

XXIV. 
He watch'd the shadow's nearing, 

For foot-falls on the stone. 
Yet no sound came to hearing. 
Or lent a breathing tone. 
Save one whose being's own 
Sad heart, with throbs was fearing, 
For selfish self, alone ! 
And at each pulse's beat, he felt a thrill. 
Till midnight darken'd, and foreboded ill! 



14 



CREOLA : OR THE 



XXV. 

A heavy sleep came o'er him, 
And disianc'd all his fears — 
He drempt there stood before him, 
Spirits, ol by-gone years, 
Clad in unwonted gears ! 
And the mother dear who bore him, 
Beckon'd him home with tears. 
He woke — life's consciousness was rous'd once more ', 
And he heard the night-guards, pass his prison door. 

XX VI . 
He listen'd — they v/ere unlocking 

The jail-yard's outer gate ; 
Then heard he both them talking. 
About his own hard fate, 
How it must terminate I 
When off, one guard went walking. 
The other sfopp'd 'neath his grate. 
And Pedro sigh'd, as back he laid his head ; 
To rest upon his hard, unpillow'd bed. 

XXVII. 
The place but suited illy, 

A mind so full of gloom ; 
Pent in a house as chilly, 
As the cold vaulted room. 
Of the drear charnel tomb. 
Where death, in darkness stilly, 
Preys upon wasting bloom. 
And Pedro wept, shut out from mortal kind; 
Till frightful thousfhts, came o'er his troubl'd mind. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 15 



XXVIII. 

The city clocks were tolling, 

Night's lengthy twelve hours out ; 
And a coach was slowly trolling. 
Along its destin'd route ; 
While 'fore it, moved a scout 
In dingy dress, who strolling 
On, eyed all she saw about. 
Till through the prison-gate, she chanc'd to peep ; 
And spied the guard, beneath the grate asleep. 

XXIX. 

On roll'd the carriage slowly, 

Till the street-turn was found ; 
While she, on mission holy, 
Stood by the gateway's bound. 
Till ceas'd the coach-wheels' sound, 
When with sad tones, she lowly ^ 

Sank down upon the ground. 
And then began, her tale of piteous wo ; 
'' The homeless beggar cannot farther gol " 

XXX. 
The guard uak'd up — Her moaning 

Soon told him where she sat ; 
He bid her " hush her groaning," 
And said — "'less she did, that, 
He'd stop her foolish chat ! " 
But she, her words kept droning, 
Till to the gate thereat, 
He came. Which was unlock'd soon, by the guard ; 
Who rais'd her up, and dragg'd her in the yard. 



16 



CREOLA : OR THE 



XXXI . 

Her fearless heart was beating, 

She wore her Pedro's beh ; 
Firmness knew no retreating, 
And in her soul it dwelt, 
As t*he mad blow she dealt, 
Which granted her a meeting, 
When he, her dagger felt ! 
And down he fell in the high wall's gloomy shade ; 
When she dofl'd her gown, which o'er the corse she laid. 

XXXII. 
Fear, had not, her heart shaken. 

Though the bloody deed was o'er ; 
For the prison-key was taken, 
Which he around him wore, 
From the body wet \vith gore; 
And now Pedro to awaken, 
She hurried to the door. 
The key was in the lock, which backward sprung ; 
And the yielding door, Creola open flung. 

XXXIII . 
One moonlight ray was stealing, 

Through bars that bound his cell ; 
And 'neath the stone-arch'd ceiling, 
In a long column fell. 
To cheer the captive's hell. 
To lend a gladsome feeling. 
And brighter hopes to tell. 
When he heard the gate ope, close, a scuffle, groan, — 
Then some one hurrying 'cross the yard alone ! 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 17 

XXXIV. 

Then heard he subsequently 

The door unlock — then heard he, 
Footsteps, and his name spoke gently ; 
And in the room could see, 
A form, like man's should he, 
Stop — and gaze round intently, 
Then say, " Don Pedro's free ! " 
When he much frighten'd, ask'd the voice ^o tell ;] 
"Whither it come from Earth, or Heaven, or Hell ?" 

XXXV. 
The figure drew still nearer, 

Till by his side it stood ; 
And spoke his name still dearer. 
In more endearing mood. 
And offer'd Pedro food, 
Proving a friendly bearer, 
And messenger of good ; 
Then spoke, " We are free ! thy dagger 's at my side ; 
I am Creola, thy affianc'd bride ! " 

XXXVI. 
He heard no more, Creola 
Was to his bosom prest ; 
Who prov'd a sweet consoler. 
To his torn aching breast. 
So much distress'd, now blest ! 
For she vow'd in dear Payola, 
In sunny Spain to rest ! 
And bade him Hy with her, far from that place ; 
Quitting the haunts of misery and disgrace ! 



18 CREOLA : OR THE 



XXX VII . 

Her plot was soon related, 

Time told them not to stay ; 
For Heaven's just will had fated, 
To them a happy day, 
But danger in delay, 
And a carriage nearby waited, 
To bear them both away ! 
So arm-in-arm, they left the loathsome cell ; 
And to the dungeon, bade a long farewell. 

XXXVIII. 
She lock'd the door behind them. 

As they stept o'er the sill , 
The prison would not bind them, 
Woman could conquer still, 
With her determin'd will ! 
No eyes were near to mind them, 
So on they walk'd until, 
They reach'd the outer gate, where the dead guard slept , 
From whom she rais'd her wrapper, and onward stept. 

XXXIX. 
She left the dead guard napping. 

In dreamless death's repose ; 
While closely 'bout her, wrapping 
Her dress, to the gate she goes, 
And opes, which outside of, they close, 
And lock, then key and trapping, 
She through the irons throAvs ! 
On quick they go, with arm link'd firm in arm ; 
Resolv'd to free each other, from all harm. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 



19 



XL . 

ihe moon 'hind clouds had faded, 

And softly play'd the breeze, 
While they both faint and jaded, 
Trying each other to please, 
Qnicken'd their pace with ease ; 
Till to a street deep shaded. 

They turn'd 'neath thick-grown trees. 
Where " Dick," the post boy, waited with fearful heart; 
To help Creola play her noble part. 

XL I . 
Night's gloominess o'ercast her. 

But Pedro still was nigh. 
Said she — " Farewell my master, 
A slave no more am I, 
On lands 'neath Freedom's sky ! 
Speed on the steeds now faster, 
Then Heaven's lightning's fly ! " 
Then in embrace, her lips Don Pedro's prest; 
And the coach's motion, lull'd them both to rest^ 




PART III. 

DISCOVERY OE THE GUARD SPEECHLESS. 
DEATH OF CREOLA'S MASTER. 

ATTACK BY ROBBERS —LUCKY ESCAPE. 



X L II . 
Night fled. The day was dawning, 

And orient skies were bright ; 
As sunshine kist the morning, 

And ting'd earth's cheeks with light. 
While o'er the prison's height, 
Was stretrh'd a cloudy awning, 
Above a ghastly sight ! 
For the guard liv'd, and utter'd groans and sighs, 
Till persons passing stopt in dire surprise ! 

XL I II . 
Assistance soon was render'd, 

The gate was open burst ; 
Then aid to him was tender'd, 
And queries put him first. 
As he was kindly nurst; 
"Oh ! what vile wretch had gender'd 
The wound, and hoped the worst ? " 
The speechless guard, one word could answer not ; 
And friends drew near, and bore him from the spot. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 



21 



XLIV . 
His life with doubts was cumber'd, 

He sufler'd days of pain ; 
But Aviien some months were number'd, 
No more did he complain, 
So stood as guard again. 
Excitement, long had slumber'd, 
About him, nearly slain. 
Rewards were large for slave, and Prisoner gone ; 
Yet no news told of them, and Time sped on ! 

XLV. 
The master's mind was laded, 
With grief for his lost slave ; 
He felt he had degraded, 
A heart as pure and brave, 
As e'er had crost the wave. 
While guilt his soul upbraided, 
And curst him for the grave. 
Yet though his slaves, their master's death mourn'd o'er; 
And raiss'd him much, they miss'd Creola more ! 

XLVI. 
Like two vines clung together. 

She and her Pedro were ; 
Each heart was like a feather, 
That swims upon the air. 
Falling and rij^ing there. 
Regardless of the weather, 
And free from every care ! 
So bolh slept on, till sunshine streak'd the east; 
And bright Aurora ate her dewy feast. 



22 CREOLA : OR THE 



XL VII . 

Their jaunt was not half over ; 

They came to a thriving town ; 
He drest as Minstrel- Rover, 
She in her dingy gown I 
Where the coach steps let down, 
At the house of a country drover, 
Whose suit was home-made brown. 
Their carriage slumbers had refresh'd them both ; 
But the beasts and Dick, to stop — seem'd nothing loath. 

XL VIII. 
After they had repasted, 

Greek's look, now bold ! 
With her odd dress contrasted. 
As from her pocket's fold, 
She drew a purse of gold, 
Which with her years had lasted, 
To buy herself, if sold ! 
One piece from this, the drover ask'd and got ; 
Bu! eyed the Avhole, as if he 'd hke the lot ! 

XL IX. 
While the stable-boy caresses, 

Each horse for what he knows ; 
She, the few moments, blesses. 
And out wnth Pedro goes. 
To whom, she suits new clothes, 
And to herself, new dresses, 
And, an independence shows ! 
Now back they turn, and in the coach take seats ; 
And off now rolls the carriage through the streets. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 23 

L. 
Morn pass'd — Noon came — then Even, 

And sunlight flush'd the west ; 
Then the deep blue of heaven, 
With moon and starry crest. 
Was bright with lustres drest ; 
But the church bells struck 'leven, 
Ere they had stopt to rest ; 
In the pleasant suburbs of a city fair ; 
Whose din and bustle echo'd on the air. 

LI . 
The next morn, on they travel'd. 

Into the city near ; 
Whose streets so smoothly gravel'd, 
So cleanly did appear, 
That she scarce lent an ear, 
To hear its fame unravel'd, 
]5y her Don-Pedro dear ! 
For newer objects, caught her waiting sight ; 
Till day pass'd on and brought another night. 

LII. 
Again they rested. — Sorrow- 
Had fled from otf their hearts ; 
While hope for them did borrow, 
With all her witching arts, 
The joys which sleep imparts, 
Each dreampt of bliss to-morrow, 
And felt its burning darts. 
Till morning, with its rich and ruddy beams. 
Awoke them from their sweet and happy dreams. 



24 CREOLA : OR THE 



LIII . 

The town in hurly-burly. 

Woke Dick from dreams as gay ; 
And while the dew-drops pearly, 
Shone in the sun's glad ray, 
To leave, he did obey. 
So while the morn was early, 
He made no more delay, 
But on he drove, the fond and loving pair ; 
While flowery sweets ^vere freighted on the air. 

L I V. 
Again pale day stood trembling, 

Upon the summer sky ; 
And each beam's bright resembling 
Of light, did westward fly. 
As night again drew nigh ; 
Which came not with dissemblihg, 
Or with the day to vie ; 
Nor to make happy, those already blest ; 
But to the weary to give repose and rest. — 

L V. 
Morn's Sabbath sun grcAv brighter, 
Till earth caught Heaven's smile ; 
And both their hearts grew lighter, 
As resting for a while. 
At church, adown whose aisle. 
The Bishop stood in mitre, 
To free foul souls from guile. 
'Fore whom in solemness, they knelt to pray ; 
And ask forgiveness, in a contrite way. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 



25 



L VI . 
Don Pedro's eye detected, 

The Bishop's earnest look, 
Who piously reflected. 
As from his vest he took, 
A gift — God's Holy Book! 
Which sight so unexpected, 
The Bishop could not brook ! 
So asking it, beg'd Pedro's name, and age ; 
Bat read his own, wrote on the frontal page ! 

L VII . 
Poor Pedro gaz'd affrighted, 

As ehang'd the Bishop's brow, 
For that lov'd gift was plighted. 
With a parent's parting vow, 
' ' Ne'er to a despot bow ! " 
And the altar lights, were lighted, 
For penitence, as now. 
But years had past, since his doom'd father fled ; 
His home was gone, and all his kin were dead. 

L V III. 
The Bishop's dark eye glisten'd. 

To hear Don Pedro's tale ; 
And with dread thoughts he listen'd, 
Until his lips grew pale. 
And eyesight 'gan to fail ! 
For his son had been prison'd. 
Within a gloomy jail! 
Bui Pedro knew not, that the Bishop near. 
To whom he spake, was his own father dear ! 



26 



CREOLA : OR THE 



LIX . 

After a long confessing, 
Of faults so manifold, 
The Bishop spoke his blessing, 
And to him wisely told, 
" Never to love for gold. 
But love life's long caressing. 
That grows not tir'd, nor old." 
Then plac'd a box, fast-lock'd in Pedro's hand ; 
To open not. till wed in Spain's fair land I 

LX . 

Enclos'd was hid a treasure ! 

Pedro knew not of this ; 
While the Bishop with sad pleasure, 
And thoughts of happiness, 
Wish'd them both future bliss. 
And then, to fill Love's measure, 
He pledg'd to each a kiss. 
And while new secrets, fiU'd his heart with strife, 
He bade them, " God-speed on the road of life I " 

LXI. 

They left the Sanctuary, 

With souls made pure and fine ; 
Vowing they would not vary. 
From trusting love's design. 
Nor o'er past fortunes pine : — 
While 'fore the Virgin Mary, 
Was knelt the sire divine. 
Whose fervent prayer, was lisp'd with heartfelt tone ; 
For Pedro's Bible prov'd to him, his own ! 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 27 

L XII. 

The sacred day of Sunday, 

Its sweetest influence brought ; 
And eve preceding Monday, 
A sudden change had wrought, 
On Memory's train of thought. 
For they but needed one day, 
To gain the port they sought. 
But night had thrown her mantle o'er them now ; 
Whose starry eyes, were sparkling 'neath her brow. 

L XI I I. 
They rested at a village. 

Built on a rugged spot, 
That seem'd unfit for tillage , 
Where out the coach they got, 
To stop with those who wot 
Not, but they come for pillage, 
Into their rural cot I 
But soon the travelers, told them of their flight ; 
And found in sleep, sweet dreamings for the night. 

L XI V. 
They slept, till nignt no longer, 

Shadow'd the azure deep ; 
Till realities were stronger, 
Than imagery of sleep ; 
For, at morn's sudden peep, 
They left the humble monger. 
Their journey's course to keep. 
And the coach roll'd steadily, along its way ; 
For a distant city on a northern bay. 



CRKOLA : OR THE 



L X V. 

The air was full of sweetness, 

As day was full of light, 
And the country wore a neatness, 
That made it passing bright, 
And gladden'd each one's sight, 
While on, their steeds of fleetness, 
Sped with untiring might ! 
But now, by turns, new beauties they descry ; 
Till distant ocean, meets their watchful eye. 

L XVI. 
They near'd the blue sea's border, 

And heard its mighty roar ; 
A.s waves in wild disorder, 

Dash'd 'gainst the rocky shore. 
Laving their limits o'er , 
Where nature's wildest order. 
Afforded love and lore. 
Both gaz'd intently on the scene sublime — 
And almost wish'd to stop the flight of Time. 

L X VII . 
Hastily turning thither. 

The horses slack'd their pace, 
Seeming to know when hither, 
It was no fitting place, 
For them to trot or race I 
And the lovers knew not whither 
They went, for each one's face 
Was seaward bent, as o'er the billowy main. 
Again, their fancy's eye saw beautiful Spain ! 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 



29 



L XV III. 
The coach was now descending , 

A long and rugged hill ; 
And rosy day was ending, 
Its page of good and ill. 
Still on they rode, until 
They caine 'neath trees o'erbending, 
Beside a gurgling rill. 
Where o'er the road, rough cliffs did outward jut ; 
Frowning on all, who pass'd this narrow cut. 

L X I X . 
Quick now as darts the lightning, 

Three robbers forward dash ! 
Two seize the reins, and tight' ning 
Their hold, the third more rash, 
Asks boldly—' ' life or cash ? " 
Who deems it sure by frighl'ning I 
But Pedro's pistol's flash 
And sharp report's bi'ight ball, his vile heart found ; 
That fell'd the monster down, dead on the ground ! 

LXX . 
The horses plunging, pitching. 
Break from the robbers near ; 
And backward from them twitching. 
They up together rear, 
'Tempting the way to clear ! 
For their curb'd heads were itching. 
As snorted they with fear ! 
But the robber fell, and the horses loos'd now fled ; 
And left him welter'd in his gore quite dead I 



30 CREOLA : OR THE 

L XXI. 
If plots are base and hollow, 

Their ends can ne'er prove good ! 
So with the shots, that follow 
The carriage through the wood. 
From those who wondering stood, 
Beside poor whining Rollo, 
In melancholy mood ! 
Who by his master, watch'd with looks of pain ; 
Fawning, yet failing, to bring life back again. 

L XXII. 
As shoots the meteor, blazing, 

Across the starry sky ; 
As birds on light wings raising; 
Dart swiftly, passing nigh. 
And to the distance fly ; 
So these shots, from those gazing, 
As harmlessly whiz'd by. 
When they raisM their comrade^ from the fatal spot ; 
And bore him off, to bmy, and be forgot. 

LXXIIl. 
But onward dash'd the carriage. 
Which stor'd the gallant pair ; 
Who found their route to marriage, 
Was full of doubt and care, 
Whose trials each must share. 
For hearts must not disparage, 
What Love resolves to bear ! 
And when their steeds, some miles had further sped ; 
They saw a city's thousand lights ahead. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 



31 



L X X I V . 
The horses grew more laggard, 

Forgetful of iheir fright ; 
Till drowsily they stagger'd, 
Slack'ning their paces quite,^ 
And stopp'd at length outright, 
Like some day-tired-out haggard, 
To rest and spend the night. 
But Dick's long wh'p, and lash's magic crack, 
Soon rous'd them up, and brought their spirits back. 

LXXV. 
They enter'd now the city, 

Whose bustle of the day. 
With tales of joy and pity. 
Had with it pass'd away, 
And slowly on rode they. 
First sad, then gay and witty, 
They turn'd along the way. 
To a noble Inn, where out the coach they stept ; 
And sought their rooms, where soon they calmly slept. 




PART IV. 



CALM, STORM, AKD WRECK. 

THE PIRATE SKIP AND MERCHANTMAN. 

ARRIVAL IN SPAIN. 



LXXVI . 
The sun lay o'er the ocean, 

Like a broad belt of gold ; 
The town was in commotion, 
With enterprises bold, 
By people young and old ! 
While in sublime devotion, 
Creola, her matins told. 
And as she knelt, to supplicate for grace ; 
She pray'd for safely to home's biding place. 

L X X V 1 1 . 
Sleeplessly Pedro rested. 

Till smil'd the morning light ; 
When spires and domes were crested, 
With sunbeams pluming bright ; 
Then, left his couch of night ; 
And at the quay requested 

'' To knoAv, if soon there might, 
Be a vessel outward bound, from port that day ? " 
Who was answer'd — " Yes. She anchors in the bay I" 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 33 

LXXVIII. 

Quickly he turn'd and hurried 

Back where Creola was ; 
With spirits strangely flurried, 
Knowing the real cause, 
To be the fear of laws, 
Which had his senses Avorried, 
At each delay and pause ! 
But fortune's star now seem'd to hght life's sky ; 
And he met Creola, with a bright glad eye. 

L X X I X . 
To Dick, their stout postillion. 
They 'warded him his due ; 
Who swore for gold a million ! 
He 'd not divulge the true 
Heart's secret, that he knew, 
Though doubl'd to a trillion ! 
Then bade ihem each, " adieu," 
And left for home — while they, as much in haste ; 
Prepar'd themselves, to voyage the trustless waste. 

L X X X . 
The pier-boat lay for shipping. 

With keel as black as jet ; 
The boatman's oars yet dripping. 
With drops of briny wet ; 
When new sights, his eye met ; 
For hurrying forward, skipping 
On board, stept two, who set 
Themselves down by him, and quickly ask if he, 
" Will row them out, to the bark soon bound to sea? " 



34 CREOLA : OR THE 



L XXXI . 
The sunlight still was streaming, 
The bright-wav'd waters o'er ; 
As Creola, sat half dreaming, 
Thinking of things before, 
Wondering more and more ! 
Till the hungry sea-gull's screaming, 
Told her she 'd left the shore ! 
AYhen grasping Pedro, fondly by the hand, 
They baclcAvard look'd on dear New England's strand. 

LXXXII. 
The Tar his jerken doffing, 

Pull'd harder, as higher curl'd. 
Each long wave, in whose troughing. 
They lost sight of shore's world, 
Until the boat Avas hurl'd, 
Far out into the offing ! 

Where rode with sails half-furl'd, 
The noble bark, with flags and pennons gay ; 
Abroad of which, now tack'd, then bore away ! 

LXXXIII. 
As glided on the vessel, 
Creola kept the deck ; 
Leant 'gainst the hewn-oak tressel. 
With arms round Pedro's neck. 
Till faded to a speck. 
The shore. Then, felt a nestle 
Within, fearing a wreck 
Far out at sea, where the skies and water meet ; 
And the foaming billows, form the winding sheet. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 35 

L XXXI V. 

Dead sickness now came o'er her, 

She hurried to her berth ; 
Pier Pedro dear before her, 
With words of love and mirth, 
To her seem'd little worth I 
Health only could restore her, 
A being bright of earth. 
Thus many a day, went past in qualmish pain , 
Till she and Pedro came on deck again ! 

LXXX V. 
A strong breeze kist the ocean, 

The morn Creola's smile. 
To please fond Pedro's notion. 
Was seen on deck awhile, 
To gaze for many a mile, 
O'er the Atlantic's portion, 
Which circles not an isle ! 
Yet, as dim distance, lent its misty welt ; 
Shs saw in fancy where her first joys dwelt I 
XXXVI, 
The waves so rough, seem'd calmless. 

And soon they lull'd to rest ; 
And the gallant bark lay harmless, 
Upon the blue sea's breast, 
Like bird upon its nest ; 
But the captain's eye rov'd charmless, 
Far to the cloudy west. 
As the very atmosphere, now lost its breath, 
And ocean slumber'd, hush'd and still as death. — 



L X X X V I I . 
Creola, full of gladness, 

Happy as heart could be, 
Forgetting former sadness, 
Gaz'd fondly on the sea, 
As the huge whale in glee, 
Or else in freak of madness. 
Spouted the waters free ! 
And countless porpoise, springing from the main , 
Went plunging back, to find their home again. 

L X X X T I I I . 
Now turning round, she leaneth 

Against the towering mast ; 
To ask — " What nature meaneth, 
By showing such contrast ?" 
But started back aghast ! 
To see up towards the zenith, 
A black cloud sweeping fast. 
And as she met the captain's anxious look ; 
A dreadful awe, her conscious feelings shook ! 

L X X X I X . 
The sea was like a mirror — 

An instant chang'd the sight ! 
And now in wildest terror. 

Darts down the sulph'rous light, 
And day is dark as night I 
Filling each heart with horror. 
As ocean proves her might ! 
While the crashing thunders jar the raging deep ; 
And the drifting bark, yields to the wild waves sweep ; 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 37 

XC. 

The masts, are rent asunder ! 
The yards, are shiver' d low ! 
The crew, in dread and wonder, 
Cling trembhng to the bow, 
But signs heroic show ! 
While bellows out the thunder, 
And stronger gust- winds blow I 
As the rolling vessel, reels from wave to wave ; 
Now gulph'd, now rising, from its watery grave ! 

XCI. 
As of all trees, the willow, 

Strip t, braves the roughest blast ! 
Deep rooted in the killow, 
With frame of 'lastic cast. 
Stands when the storm is past ; 
So, bending o'er each billow, 
Without a sail or mast, 
That tumbling hulk, with her half-perish'd crew ; 
Plung'd on resistless, all the long night through I 

X C I I . 

Sweet morning came with brightness. 

The waves yet mountains high, 
Seem'd leaping up with lightness. 
Into the very sky. 
As they, the wreck surg'd by ! 
But o'er their crown'd-tops whiteness, 
Look'd many an anxious eye. 
From that sad crew, to see some wandering sail ; 
Or, passing ship, which they could spy and hail ! 
3 



38 CREOLA : OR THE 



XCIII . 

Bnt nothing crost their vision, 
Till near the close of day ; 
When a rover in derision, 
Stood o'er the sea's highway, 
And soon " long side " them lay ! 
Who pitied their condition, 
But plunder'd them for pay ; 
Yet Pedro's gift, escapM the eye and art ; 
Of the Ocean Monarch, as he play'd his part. 

XC I V . 
Creola, well nigh crazy. 

Since first broke vrild the storm ; 
Like spring-time's blooming daisy^ 
Whose slender, fragile form, 
Loves but the sunshine warm, 
Below kept, as the lazy 

Hull, like a sluggish worm, 
Crawl'd o'er the waters, without mast or sail ; 
A faithful remnant of that mighty gale ! 

XC V. 
Two more long days they drifted, 

Whose nights brought them no sleep ; 
But now on yon waves lifted, 
A ship doth onward sweep, 
Her distant track to keep : 
Ah — see ! her course is shifted, 
And she comes o'er the deep. 
Not, as the Rover did, to act the thief; 
But comes the crew to save, and gives relief ! 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 39 

XCVI. 

All hands were now preparing, 
To leave the deluged deck ; 
As near with friendly bearing, 
The captain made a beck, 
To those on board the wreck. 
Who stood near famish'd, staring! 
While round her Pedro's neck, 
Creola's hands, with last exertions clung ; 
Whose 'shevel'd tresses, o'er her bosom hung ! 

CXVII. 
The day was nearly ended. 
Ere all had left the bark, 
Whose gallant form lay rended, 
A shatter'd draff, a mark. 
Upon the waters dark ! 
When night's high hall grew splendid, 
With many a stellar spark. 
As offvvard moved the ship with overt pride ; 
Whose sails all trim'd, now furrows up the tide. 

XC VIII. 
Since that dire scene of anguish, 

Ten calm days glided o'er ; 
Creola, liv'd to languish. 
And at the vessel's prore, 
Stood mute the crew before — 
Who, all her stupors vanquish. 
As point they toward the shore ! 
And far away, Creola sees a haze ; 
Which soon proves land, by nearer, steadier gaze ! 



40 CREOLA : OR THE 



XC IX . 

New joys, light life's existence, 

For shore now meets her view, 
And in that rising distance, 
Across the billowy blue, 
Dwell her familiar few, 
While Pedro, lends assistance. 
And merrily sing the crew ; 
As onward rides, the full-sail'd ship so gay ; 
And drops her anchor, in the shoaly bay. 

C. 
Dear Spain's delightful region, 

Now met the eye of each ; 
And crafts that made a legion, 
In numbers, deck'd the beach, 
And round the town did reach ! 
Which, like the sea of a53gean. 
Could tales of terror teach ! 
For though 'twas Spain, and Creola's native land ; 
She knew here, despots treacherous, held command ! 

CI. 

Soon she and Pedro landed, 
But stopt, in dread alarm ; 
For the Bishop's gift unbranded. 
Must bear the laxerh charm. 
And country's coat-of-armi 
Which done, it back was handed 
Unopen'd, free from harm ! 
So on they pass'd, into the city-square ; 
Treading along the public thoroughfare. 



SLAVE AITO MINSTREL. 41 

CI I. 

They cross'd o'er filthy pentiles, $ 

High up a well-known street ; 
Hurrying on like Gentiles, 
To some pagodic treat, 
Whose feast is cloyless sweet ! 
But as along they went, isles, 
In the Sinus meet 
Their longing eyes, with beauties grand and new ; 
As up they rise, above the ocean's blue I 

cm . 
Along the steep they wander, 

Till city limits quite 
Are left ; then, stand to ponder- 
As from the road-side height, 
They forward catch a sight, 
And in the valley yonder. 
Discern in wild delight, 
The cottage home, in which the infant tongue ; 
Of sweet Creola, prattl'd when she was young. 

CIV. 
A few clouds dark and vapory, 

Barr'd up the golden west ; 
Through which, one sunbeam tapery. 
Shone out as if to rest, 
Upon the mountain's crest ; 
Kissing its wood-fring'd drapery. 
As if it lov'd that best. 
"But she nor Pedro saw that sunny glow ; 
As they hasten'd down the by-way-path, below. 



42 



CREOLA : OR THE 



C V. 

Now Pedro and Creola, 

Have gain'd the river's shore^ 
"Where in a light gondola, 

They found a sprightly rower, 
Who ferried them quickly o'er; 
And once in dear Payola, 

They found home's well known door, 
Which Creola enters — when, with strange alarms, 
The inmates shriek ! she faints in Pedro's arms ! 

C VI. 
Her aged sire and mother, 

Struck mute with wonder, stare ! 
Her dear and only brother, 
And sister Reita fair. 
Their kisses on her share ! 
While Pedro proves no other, 
Than rich Don Miguel's heir ! 
When Avildest joy, breaks forth in every voice ; 
From happy hearts, who in excess rejoice 1 




PART V. 

■SPIEriS MFCTIIAIL lETO, 
PEDRO'S GIFT CLAIMED BY THE CHURCH. 

REVENGE or THE DISGUISED. 

DON MIGUEL'S TRIUMPH, AND DEATH ! 



CVII. 
A thousand wild-wood flowers, 

Bloom'd near Creola's cot, 
Which clirab'd o'er trellis'd bowers. 
Making a sylvan grot, 
Beneath its leafy clot. 
Here, her and Pedro's hours, 
Past by almost forgot ! 
Till a day fix'd on, bid them side-by-side ; 
He, as her husband — and she as his bride. 

c VIII. 
As morning bright and pleasant. 

Came ushering in the day ; 
Each poor and humble peasant, 
With Dons and Donnas gay, 
Assembl'd by the way ; 
Bringing some nuptial present, 
As tribute slight, to pay ! 
And as the sun, walk'd up its shining route ; 
Don Pedro, and Creola ventur'd out. 



44 



CREOLA : OR THE 



C IX. 

Villagers eeas'd their labors, 

To join the marriage throng ; 
And richest, poorest neighbors. 
Now stood the crowd among, 
As pass the two along. 
While Harps, Guitars and Tabors, 
Accompany their song. 
And the heavy bell, of St. Marie tolls ; 
To form an union, of these happy souls. 

ex. 
Their path is strown with roses, 

Thrown by the aged ones ; 
And wreaths of buds and posies, 
Are scatter'd by their sons, 
And Daughters. While the Nuns, 
And priests, (demure as Moses,) 
Move on, for each else shuns 
Their saint-like visages, and sad-grown looks ; 
In long-black habits, and with gilt-bound books ! 

CXI. 
Creola's frock, though simple, 

Was tuck'd with scarlet hem ; 
With full plait waist to crimple, 
Made fast with many a gem, 
Where, pluck'd fresh from the stem, 
Above her bosom's dimple, 

Two rose-buds hung from them ; 
And o'er her sweet, and bright bewitchsng face ; 
Fell loosely down, a veil of broider'd lace. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 45 



C XII . 
The Church-lawn, still was roral, 

And dew-pearls glittering shone ; 
While friends the path made floral, 
With choicest flowers known ; 
While gifts of precious stone, 
With costly sprigs of coral. 
As e'er the sea had grown, 
Were ofFer'd her — as she, and Pedro trod ; 
Along the path-way, to the house of God ! 

CXIII. 
Many, round the doorways loiter ; 
Where one disguised, doth con, 
And waits to reconnoitre, 
Creola and her Don, 
Whom she so bravely won ! 
But now, he proves escorter, 
As the bridal-train moves on. 
For turning into, theChurch's lengthen'd aisle ; 
The stranger passes on, with unseen guile ! 

XIV. 
The organ's notes are pealing, 

As enter the bridal-pair ; 
When a strange-like-thrill of feeling, 
Comes o'er Creola there. 
At the multitude's wild stare ! 
When the music softly stealing, 
Ceases for rites of prayer. 
And stillness reigns, amid the assembl'd crowd ; 
As the Holy Father, his benison reads aloud ! 



46 



CREOLA : OR THK 



C X V . 

Many a soul of honor, 

Relax'd its hold on grace ; 
As kneeling before Madona, 

Their eyes turn'd from the place 
Of painted love, to face 
Creola, and gazing 'pon her. 
Fancied a fond embrace ! 
For when the Father, his blessing ceas'd to speak; 
A crimson blush, suffused her tawny cheek. 

C X VI . 
Don Pedro did not falter, 

To wed and loose love's strife ; 
Nor did Creola palter 
Away her slavish life, 
For nought but hardships rife I 
For now before the altar, 
She stood as Pedro's wife. 
And the casket given him, by the unknown Priest; 
Must now be open'd, for the rights have ceas'd* 

c X VI I . 
He ope'd the mystic coffer. 

And rais'd a dative plate ; 
Which did amazement proffer ! 
And bid him — " search for fate, 
And find a fortune great !" 
" Kind Heaven ! did that box offer 
Papers to an estate ?" 
"With trembling hand, he touch'd the magic sheet : 
But started back, his father's face to meet ! 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL 47 

C XVI II. 

Within a gem-set moulding, 

His father's portrait lay ! 
Whose life-like-hps seem'd holding, 
Some conversation gay.— 
And Pedro turn'd away. 
And in his 'kerchief's folding, 
He wept, as on that day, 
When his father dear, was banish'd far from Spain : 
And ne'er allow'd, to e'er return again ! 

C XIX . 
His mother, mad with sorrow, 

A maniac's day did rave ; 
For scarce had fled the morrow, 
Ere her glad spirits brave, 
Lay wreck'd within the grave ! 
When he had sought to borrow. 
The love Creola gave. 
But one bright day, alas ! — she too, was gone ; 
And all had fled, his young heart liv'd upon. 

C XX. 

Yet through his lonely palace, 

A few more days he trod ; 
When one morn rife with malice, 
A summons seeming odd, 
Came forth the Church-Synod ! 
Dashing life's empty chalice 
To nought, as gifts, for God ! 
And he stood homeless, like a beggar strange ; 
Forgetting life, to think on fortune's change ! 



48 



CREOLA : OR THE 



CXXI. 
His harp, louch'd by his finger, 

Beneath that palace dome ; 
Could there no longer linger, 

Save, when thought read life's tome. 
And memory's self turn'd home. 
But now, a Harper, Singer, 
Fate bade him beg and roam ! 
So ere day's dusk, he'd left his native Spain ; 
Resolv'd, to never tread its lands again. 

CXXII. 
One kind interrogation, 

Here from Creola came ! 
And with deep lamentation, 

He read through tears, in stiame, 
His own dear father's name ! 
Wrote, as a consolation. 

Within that garnish'd frame ! 
Which Pedro hfting, rais'd a paper's fold ; 
And saw beneath, bonds, deeds, and notes, with gold! 

CX XIII. 
With rage the Priests turn'd palhd. 

To learn such startling news ! 
Yet soon their wits they rallied, 
And ask'd them to peruse. 
As proof of Pedro's views ! 
But held them as invalid. 
For confiscation dues ! 
And prov'd the Church, had held these lands long time; 
E'er since Don Miguel's banishment for crime. 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 49 

CXXIV. 
" An Exile midst all clanger, 
Don Miguel yet shall stay ; 
A malefactor ranger, 

His life debt there to pay, 
And country's laws obey ! 
There live, a happless stranger, 
And die as traitors may I 
He, he alone, if here, could claim control ; 
He is not, and the church secures the whole !" 

CXX V. 
Don Miguel's heart's-blood flutter'd, 

As near the priest he stood, 
When he those last words utter'd ! 
Like an eagle mad for food, 
Watch'd he his prey, and brood ! 
Then one sworn vow he mutter'd 
Beneath his cassock-hood. 
And ere the priest, another sentence said : 
Don Miguel's knife, had struck the vulpine dead ! 

CXXVl . 
" Die liar !" — cried Miguel, throwing 

Aside his priestly goAvn ; — 
" Don Miguel is not owing 
Thee, nor the church a crown, 
Whose crafts have won renown : 
And which, the people knowing, 
Shall shortly totter down ! 
Behold me, Miguel, whom the church exil'd ; 
Stands in your midst, to bless his only child !" 



50 



CREOLA : OR THE 



C X X V I I . 

Then rose up shouts of glory, 

Mingled with shouts of rage, 
From those ,with white locks hoary, 
From those of sterner age, 
Striving, strife to assuage ! 
For Miguel's deed and story, 
[Tad frighted priest and sage ! 
And as he claspt, Creola's and Pedro's hands ; 
He gave them back, the deeds to all his lands ! 

CXXVIII. 
*• Seize ! seize, the murderous traitor !" 

The trembling papists cried ; 
" And slay Ihe base church-hater, 

Before his son and bride, 
Who stand on either side !" 
"Hold ! hold !" said Miguel— " greater 
And nobler saints have died !" 
Then bravo-like, with knife red- wet with gore ! 
He fell'd the papals, dead upon the floor ! 

CXX VIX. 
Said he — " 'neath much disguising, 

Of holiness you're slain ! 
I speak with words surprising, 
With liberal rights for Spain, 
Don Pedro lives to reign ! 
Which country, realizing 

Those truths, shall freedom gain ! 
Or tyrants base, and despots will control ; 
To slave the body, and corrupt the soul !" 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL 



51 



cxxx. 

" Strike down the vile invader, 

Who dares dispute our zeal !" 
Cried out the low upbraider, 
In his divine appeal, 
As now he bares his steel, 
To save the church, and aid-her 
Through its unfathom'd weel ! 
But Miguel's knife, dealt death at every blow. 
Till groans and sighs, died with the vengeful foe ! 

C X X X I . 
But in this scene of fraction. 
Without a sign or shriek ; 
Miguel clos'd the bloody action, 

With his own hand, groAvn weak ! — 
When paler grew his cheek. 
And ceas'd the wreakful faction. 
He dying — gasp'd to speak !'• — 
" Pedro, be happy — tyranny's reign is o'er ! 
Miguel dies a freeman — on his native shore."— 




SEQUEL. 1860. 



CREOLA AND PEDRO MADE HAPPY. 
SPAIN'S FIRST BORN FREE CHILD. 



CXXXII. 
Few years have fled. — The Spanish 

Bow not to the despot's crown ! 
But freed, the people banish, 
Or trample church-laws down, 
For freedom's just renown ! 
Tyranny too must vanish, 
When meeting public frown ! 
While Industry, drops plenty from her hand ; 
And golden harvests, bless the happy land. 

C X X X 1 1 1 . 
Yet in this fair dominion, 

Within home's nestling place. 
Like bird with unfledg'd pinion, 
Wakes into life a face. 
From, Creola's fond embrace ! 
The first-born freeborn minion. 
Of Pedro's noble race ! 
Who feels it is, his happiest spell in life ; 
For he's a Father ! — a Mother is his wife ! 



Lct-19 



SLAVE AND MINSTREL. 53 

C X X X I V. 

'Tis night, and Madrid 's quiet — 

The silver moon is high ; 
No Dons and Donnas riot, 
While starving mortals die, 
Whose wants they can supply ! 
For Spain holds Heaven's fiat, 
To equalise men by ! 
AVhich will, a happier future for it claim ; 
If glorious deeds can win a lasting name. 

C X X X V. 
True freedom hath no slavery, 

To curse its daily toil ; 
True Freemen have no knavery, 
To knot the bloody coil, 
'Bout brother man for spoil ; 
Or fight with hireling bravery, 
Far from their homes and soil ; 
And the land that bears such, wheresoe'er it be; 
Shall break its shackles, to boast of Liberty. 




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